


The Decade

by Kimmy



Series: The Darlings [2]
Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alec centric, Bondage, Captivity, Figging, Restraints, Rope Bondage, Torture, Wax Play, Whump, not a very happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 04:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6037612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For ten years, Alec is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Decade

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I planned on ending with fluff. Oh well, blame Tsuyu.
> 
> I can promise to make a next installment in the series fluff.

For the first few weeks he was waiting for James to come rescue him.

Then there was anger and the feeling of betrayal.

And then he realised the truth was probably far simpler and far more cruel. He realised he was probably dead.

***

The first few sessions, they went for classic. It would have been laughable if it wasn't for the fact, they got one thing right. The cell was inescapable. Day in, day out. They could take their sweet time, do whatever they wanted to Alec, because sadly one thing was sure - he wasn't getting out of there.

Then she herself, young Ouromov heiress came down to him to watch his distress and help with the torture.

The bitch turned out to be creative.

After that few months under her watch, Alec was familiar with each and every kind of torture humanity had ever have the guts to come up with. He didn't give in. He might have been a dead man, but as long as was alive, he would stay true to his country.

He didn't say a word. As long as he had some strength left, he insulted and cursed. When he was too exhausted he screamed instead.

A week before one year anniversary of his capture, she came in with an elaborate, painfully tight looking harness. They pushed him to the floor, made him scream, and then stuffed his mouth full of some foul smelling, rough fabric, before trapping it in with a harness.

They must have got tired of his screaming.

She told him it was a prelude. The real gift would come on the birthday party. She told him it was to remind him the information didn't matter anymore. He was useless as an agent, declared deceased by MI6 after a year MIA, if he wasn't already. So they didn't need his mind anymore. His body would do. He was but a thing.

"My new toy, darling." She said.

On the one year anniversary of his capture, they got him naked, promising he would never need the clothes again, whipped him to the bone, and trussed him up like a pig in a much more elaborate and painful mock shibari full body harness.

They suspended him from the ceiling with too tight, coarse ropes digging into his abused body, stuffed his arse full of ginger and left him for hours to hang like that, alone and abandoned in his pain.

He let the tears fall.

They came every several minutes to change the ginger, so the agony was always fresh and to tug at his bindings, lifting him up high and letting him fall, interrupting the dumb immobility enough for the ropes to shift and begin the suffering all over again.

And in the evening finally she came.

They took him down, though didn't remove, or thankfully change, the ginger this time. They rearranged the ropes so he was hogtied flat on the floor on his back. And then, much to Alec's horror, they secured a candle in the harness on his chest and lit it.

She approached him slowly, the smile on her face eerie, and moved a small hotel trolley with all kinds of tools looking far from pleasurable next to her. The smile widened into a downright terrifying grin. She lifted sth from the trolley and as Alec noticed it was another candle and a blowtorch and for the first time since his capture he had to restrain a flinch - partly it was impossible anyway with the way he was tied, but partly he was simply scared about moving the candle on his stomach.

As the boiling hot wax connected with his skin, young Oumorov careful to aim it at most sensitive areas, Alec decided that if he ever got out of there, he will never be able to stay in a hotel without cowering in fear at the sight of the trolley.

***

The hot wax ritual was repeated every year, with a growing number of candles each time.

Alec decided the idea of a romantic date by candlelight lost all of its appeal.

***

He hated waterboarding most.

He was first waterboarded as a junior agent still, as a part of his torture conditioning and he found out that he would gladly take any physical pain over the experience.

The water constricting his breathing, getting everywhere it shouldn't and the overwhelming awareness of death. Waterboarding was what it felt like to be dying. Alec realised after that training he was very attached to his life.

No matter his reputation, he was careful on every mission. Risk was simply a part of it and it didn't mean he put his life on the line willingly. It was a testament to how careful he was that he still returned from those mission, he and James being the only ones from the original double oh section squad.

Or maybe just James.

He hated waterboarding most.

It was like dying all over again, when he was already dead in a painfully alive way, and it was cruel in its incomplete nature. It was like drowning without having a chance to take that last mouthful of water and let go and just sink. It was pure suffering enhanced by being repetitive. Lethal agony without sweet release of death.

His captors liked it best.

***

And then there was grey everyday reality of knives. Alec thought it was especially thoughtful of his captors to settle on his favorite weapon of choice for his daily torment. At least he could be grateful they didn't carve anything specific. As they rubbed salt into the wounds and he screamed silently through the gag, his mind found solace in the knowledge that his body would be simply littered with a maze of scars rather than marked with words or symbols.

That weak consolation was all he had.

***

It was ten years since he was captured. A decade in captivity. She made sure to come down and gloat to him about it every day for the week before.

They took his gag out. She said she wanted to hear him scream on that special occasion. He was weak and choked on air for most of the first day, unused to unrestricted breathing after 9 years spend mostly in the gag harness, with exceptions of humiliating feedings twice a week.

The next day he started insulting and cursing again. It felt like a small victory.

On the day they grabbed him bright and early and proceeded to once again truss him up like a pig in almost artistically beautiful cruelly painful mockery of shibari full body harness. This time however, once they tied him up, they simply threw him on the floor and left him like that.

No figging.

No candles in the harness.

No trolley with blowtorch waiting patiently.

It looked like an emergency. Alec hoped they were under attack or at least the building was burning. He could face death any day now. It's not like it mattered. Haven't for last nine years.

***

When they barged in with guns blazing and medics rushing and Alec realised it was clearly a rescue team he couldn't quite believe for the first while. He had given up so long ago the reality of the end was almost surreal.

And then he saw him.

Like an avenging angel, he stood on the threshold with gun in hand and blood all over him. James. Alec couldn't quite contain the joyful hope that treacherously pooled in his stomach. James eventually came back him.

Then he saw James gag in disgust and leave without even approaching him. Alec let himself be gently freed from the restrains and maneuvered by MI6 men in miserable accepting surrender, as he watched the man who was once his best friend go.

It was alright.

He had been dead for past ten years, life couldn't be worse than that.

He understood.

James must have moved on, built a life. Alec had nothing to offer him but trouble. Were he James, he wouldn't want himself back either.

Expired.

Damaged.

Broken.


End file.
